A Better Father
by audhds
Summary: When John fails to look after his sons properly, they are left in the care of none other than Bobby Singer, the rough, hardened hunter. But when faced with a badly injured child with a broken ankle and a tiny baby, it appears that Bobby is a lot softer than he seems. In fact, he may even be a better father than John Winchester ever was. Two-shot. Please Review!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys. Another random idea that popped into my head which I thought I would share. Dean is 4, Sammy is a baby. This is not a flattering portrayal of John! Anyway, Let's just pretend that John already knew Bobby before he came a hunter and that they were old family friends…just for the sake of this. This is a two-shot.**

**I really hope you enjoy the story; I am quite pleased with it :) **

"C'mon Ace, we need to go. Get your stuff, we're leaving." John was halfway down the motel driveway with baby Sam in one arm, when Dean finally managed to cram the last of Sammy's clothing in a suitcase. He had also packed all of Sammy's toys, blankets, baby food and a rattle, forsaking his own skaeletrix kit, toy car collection and his action man. There wasn't enough room in the single suitcase that John had shoved at them, their kind next door neighbour had packed the case when they left home after the fire, and had fitted everything in with ease, but Dean couldn't work out how. He wasn't going to leave behind Sammy's stuff and the only alternative was leaving his own. With slumped shoulders Dean followed his Dad's previous orders to "pack up, NOW!"

Dean had flinched at the harsh order but obeyed immediately, and now he was dragging the suitcase along the motel landing, it was far too heavy for a four year old to carry but Dean didn't want to upset his father so began to drag it along as best as he could, scraping the wooden floor as he could not lift the case. It was worth it to make his Daddy happy though. Daddy had been upset enough recently, shouting at Dean or drinking too much, or sitting staring at the wall with his head in his hands, or doing all three at once.

At first this had terrified Dean, he had silently begged for his mummy to walk through the door and calm John down, to massage his shoulders and kiss his cheek like she always used to. But she didn't. Dean hadn't seen her since the fire, since he had heard her last scream and carried his baby brother out of the house. Ever since, he had spent his hours either looking after his baby brother, or trying to work out why she wasn't coming back. He had climbed into his motel bed after washing himself like a big boy, and cleaning Sam so that his Mum would be proud of him, but she still didn't come and tuck him in. Dean just couldn't work out what he was doing wrong. Why did Mummy hate him all of a sudden?

Dean blinked back the tears in his eyes and began to make his way carefully down the motel stairs, slipping on one of the last steps and tumbling down to the floor. Dean blinked blearily at the bottom, his head was sore and there was something heavy on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. Then he felt the searing pain coursing through his ankle, so bad that he began to scream in agony, thrashing in an attempt to make the pain stop.

A blonde hotel cleaner saw the child fall and heard his cries of pain and grabbed the suitcase off him, watching as Dean gasped for air and began to cry even harder.

"Are you alright sweetheart? Does anywhere hurt? It's alright." Dean blinked blearily up at the blonde woman and his stomach did a back flip. _Mummy! _He stopped screaming for a moment and was just about to pull the woman into a tight hug when he heard his father.

"Get away from him, RIGHT NOW!" John stormed forwards and hauled Dean up by the wrist, causing Dean to gasp in pain. He had badly bruised his arm when he fell, and when John let go of him so Dean could stand on his own, but Dean discovered this was not an option as he crumbled to the floor again.

"Now excuse me! Your son just fell down the stairs and was being suffocated by a suitcase! Where were you? How dare you shout at me for helping him! Fancy letting a child carry _that! _Can't you see that he is hurt?" Dean shook his head miserably and managed to stand on one leg, leaning against the wall and holding his right one in the air to avoid making the pain any worse. Tears were streaming down his cheeks now and he couldn't help but sniffle. John looked angry every time Dean had cried for his Mum recently, John had shouted at him to "_SHUT UP,_" or not to "_BE PATHETIC!_" Dean knew he would get in trouble, which only made him cry harder. _I want Mummy._

John growled at the woman, not being able to come up with a reasonable comeback, and scooped Dean and the suitcase up, dumping them both unceremoniously in the car. He knew he should be kinder to Dean, comfort him and check out his obviously painful ankle, but he didn't.

John wasn't quite sure what was wrong with himself, since Mary he just hadn't been able to show any affection towards the boys. Dean's crying merely irritated him more, and when Sam started to scream in his cot it just made John angrier and more determined to kill the son of a bitch who did this to his family. He would get revenge, no matter the price.

They drove in near silence to Bobby's, the eerie quietness broken only by the sobs which Dean was trying to muffle in his T-shirt, which was now soaked through with tears, snot and some blood, Dean now had a nosebleed to contend with from rubbing his runny nose so much. John looked over at Dean's slumped figure in the back seat and passed him some tissues, as tenderly as he could. Guilt was beginning to seep in now, and John didn't like it.

"Dad?"

"What?" _Damn that came out harsher than I wanted it to._

_"_Nothing._" _Dean recoiled and bit back his complaint. He didn't want to make his Daddy angry.

_"_Sure?_" No, my foot hurts real bad!_

"I'm fine."

"Good. Anyway Buddy, how about I get you some M&Ms, peanut ones, your favourite."

It was a lousy attempt of making things up to his son, but it was a start. Dean nodded a little and was soon munching through the family-sized bag of candy in an attempt to take his mind off the searing pain, but it wasn't really working and his vision kept blurring, when he could see clearly it was as if his surroundings were spinning.

John hadn't eaten any yet and Sam was too small to eat the sweets, so by the time they reached Bobby's Dean was looking even worse than before, swaying on his good leg and a pale shade of green. The agony in his ankle was now so intense that it was making his stomach roll violently.

When Bobby opened the door Dean couldn't hold it in any more, vomiting miserably all over Bobby's shoes and doormat before he could even get out a hello.

"DEAN!" Dean flinched when John grabbed him by the hair and forced him to face his father's face, which was contorted with rage. For a moment Dean was sure that John was going to hit him, and Bobby clearly did to, as he interjected and pulled Dean away from his father quickly.

"Cool it John." The usually kind-faced hunter gave John a look full of venom, silently threatening to shoot the now-hunter's sorry ass if he laid a hand on his son, before turning his attention to a quivering Dean.

"S'alright kiddo. C'mon, let's get you cleaned up a bit." Bobby picked Dean up, ignoring the vomit and led the John into the kitchen, beckoning at the dining table before soaking a cloth and mopping Dean up, wiping away the tear tracks and leaving a very red, puffy faced Dean staring morosely at the floor, he still hadn't said a word and was quivering meekly.

Realising that Dean was in no fit state to move of his own accord, by the looks of things he was going into shock, Bobby picked both Dean up and tucked them into the spare bed, then returning to grab Sam and placing him in the cot that he had made up in case of a visit. Both boys slept through being put to bed, they were fast asleep in his arms before he even reached the spare bedroom. Then he quickly changed his shoes and trousers, gathering his thoughts. When he returned downstairs he grabbed a beer and downed half of it at once. He needed some Dutch courage for this.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at John? Treating your kid like that? He looks like shit…no worse that shit. I have seen corpses in a better condition, he is skin and bones. Their mother just died for god's sake, be reasonable. If you lay one hand on them I swear I will shoot you dead without a moment's hesitation. Those boys deserve to be treated better than that! What would Mary have thought if she saw you hurting Dean, or Sammy?" John simply stared blankly at Bobby before getting up, pulling his leather jacket back on and storming out of the door. He had never been one for conversation anyway and just didn't have the energy to shout and scream, which he would have done under any other circumstances, but right now he felt like crap and he could just picture a pint-or-ten with his name on them.

Bobby hurried after John but heard the revving of the Impala's engine and knew he was too late to stop the younger hunter. It was probably best if John cooled down for a bit anyway, he would be back in a couple of days in a better state of mind.

"BALLS!" It wasn't like Bobby didn't want to spend time with the rug-rats, he loved them to bits (not that he'd ever admit that he was going soft), but he knew that they needed the comfort of their family. Now was the time they needed to support each other in an attempt to re-build their apple pie life, and here was John acting like a complete bag of dicks!

The next morning, Bobby had woken up to the sounds of Sammy screaming and bawling at the top of his tiny lungs. With a sigh he headed into the boy's room and found Dean sitting on the floor cradling his brother, attempting to make him feed on the proffered bottle of milk he had packed in the suitcase, which was now warm and smelt funny. Sammy wouldn't drink but just continued to scream and Bobby could see the desperate tears streaming down Dean's face.

"Give him to me Dean, I'll sort him out." Dean hesitantly handed Sam over, but whimpered when Bobby began to leave the room with his younger brother.

"You can come to; I'm just gonna clean him up." Bobby watched, his brow furrowing when he saw Dean get to his feet with a Herculean effort, and noted how Dean wouldn't put his right foot down.

"What happened to your foot Dean?" There was no response other than a couple more tears leaking out of Dean's emerald green eyes and Bobby sighed, placing Sammy back on the bed before laying Dean next to him.

"Dean, sit on the bed for me."

"No." Dean's voice was weak and hoarse from crying, but Bobby was glad that he had finally began to speak.

"Dean, sit down now."

"D-don't want to!"

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be kiddo, just let me take a look."

"Please don't." This time Bobby felt his heart break. Dean's voice was hushed; almost a whisper and he looked up at Bobby with fearful eyes. He thought Bobby was going to hurt him even more, whatever was wrong with Dean's leg, it was clearly incredibly painful.

"I'll be careful, I promise. You can just yell at me to stop when you need to take a breather, ok?"

"Ok." Dean sniffled miserably and tensed, burying his face in a pillow and fisting his sheets.

Bobby then carefully pulled up Dean's trouser leg and tried to ignore the boy's whimper.

Bobby gasped at the sight of Dean's ankle; the bone was sticking right out, no wonder he was in agony. Bobby wondered how the boy was not unconscious or screaming, and came to the conclusion that he wasn't screaming in case John told him off for being too noisy. The kid was already showing signs of a hunter, tough and resilient.

"Right, hospital for you."

"I'm fine."

"No your not, that looks really sore."

"I want Daddy!"

"He's gone out for a while, he'll be back soon."

"When's soon?"

"I don't know Dean."

"I wanna go to sleep."

"I don't think so, sorry Dean." Dean shook his head miserably but fainted with a gasp of pain when Bobby pulled his trouser leg back down, despite being gentle the movement caused another spike of pain to shoot up Dean's leg and he just couldn't take it anymore. If anything he welcomed the oblivion.

Ten minutes later with a clean Sam and a passed out Dean in the truck, Bobby drove to A&E. _I am gonna murder that bloody Winchester with my bare hands for leaving his boy like this! _

After a lot of awkward questions and three days, Dean's ankle had been operated on and was now wrapped up in a temporary cast. He was still in a lot of pain but at least they were heading back home. Dean had hated the hospital, ever since Bobby had taken him in he had refused to talk to anyone, flinching away from the nurses and fighting against them if he got too close.

The crying hadn't been so bad, yes it was painful to watch Dean looking so miserable but it wasn't nearly as bad as what happened during the second night. Dean had practically shut down. Bobby had only left for a minute to get a cup of cheap coffee, but when he returned Dean was no longer in his bed. After half an hour of frantic searching Bobby had been told, well ordered, to wait in Dean's room in case the little boy returned. That was when he had spotted the cord of a hospital gown under Dean's bed. He quickly rang the attention bell and explained to the nurses that he had found Dean, but none of them could make the boy come out. He had curled up into a tiny ball and was rocking back and forth with his hands held tightly against his ears. In the end the staff ended up wheeling the bed away so that Bobby could pick Dean up and place him back in bed. Dean had not resisted, which was also disconcerting.

Bobby just sat by his bed all day, cuddling the boy close and muttering comforting words, although he wasn't sure Dean was listening.

By the third day still wasn't doing well emotionally but the nurses said that his ankle was begging to heal and that he could go home. Bobby actually groaned in relief, at least things would be easier on familiar territory. It was clear that Dean hated hospitals.

Whilst they were waiting to be signed off Dean was still avoiding looking at Bobby, instead choosing to stare out of the window sadly. His Dad hadn't come to the hospital with them; _Maybe he doesn't love me anymore?_

When Bobby scooped Dean up and placed him in the truck the boy seemed to perk up a little. He even allowed Bobby to carry him inside the house, he did have a crutch but relished in the comfort of Bobby hugging him close. He gently rested his head on the hunter's shoulder and began to doze off; the hospital staff had given him a lot of morphine, which was now taking his toll. Once Bobby had set Dean down on the sofa he returned to the truck to fetch Sam, who was also fast asleep.

Bobby took Sam upstairs and placed the baby in his cot before grabbing a beer and settling a sleeping Dean on the sofa next to him. He smiled as Dean subconsciously snuggled closer to his side and began to mumble in his sleep as Bobby carded through his short blonde hair. Dean was a good kid, he deserved so much better than this.

Bobby soon fell asleep on the sofa with Dean next to him; daytime television was getting worse by the minute these days! He was only roused when Dean began to thrash against him, screaming out in his sleep and begging for someone to "make it stop." Bobby had no idea what the kid was dreaming about, but it didn't take a genius to work out that this was a particularly unpleasant nightmare.

"Wake up kiddo. C'mon Dean, work with me here!" After a few more moments of wild thrashing Bobby's concerned gaze was met with blinking, emerald green eyes.

"B-Bobby?" Dean's face crumpled as he began to sob, wrapping his skinny arms around Bobby, who pulled the boy onto his lap and enveloped him in a tight hug. He was never usually one for soppy, lovey-dovey stuff but there was something about those freckles and sparkling eyes that pulled at his heartstrings.

"It's alright kiddo, it was just a dream. Don't cry." Bobby didn't know what else to do other than return Dean's hug, kids hardly came with manuals and he was pretty sure that there was nothing on how to care for a hurting child in any of his old books. _Give me a damned poltergeist any day!_

"I-I want Daddy."

"I know you do, he'll be back soon, I promise. Get some sleep Dean, things will look better tomorrow." _Well, they probably won't 'cos I'm willing to bet my hat that your Daddy is drunk as hell, but maybe the day after he will get his ass in gear._

"I don't wanna sleep. I-I'm scared."

"You have nothing to be afraid of Dean, I'll take care of you. Do you want to talk about it?" At first Dean shook his head, but then he whispered something so quiet that Bobby didn't catch it.

"Speak up a little Dean."

"T-there was a fire in my dream. I-I didn't like it, I want Mummy back."

"I know Dean, I know." Bobby's heart sank. There was nothing he could do, not really.

"Please try to sleep Dean, for me."

"I don't feel well Bobby, my head and arm hurt. And my foot is real bad."

"I can't give you any more meds, I'm sorry but your gonna have to ride this one out. Just go to sleep Dean."

"I want to sleep with Sammy."

"You can't go upstairs Dean, the doctors said, remember?" The look that Dean gave Bobby caused the hardened hunter's heart to melt and he soon found himself scooping Dean into his arms and tucking him into bed upstairs. He then lifted a tiny Sammy out of his crib and passed the child to his older brother, watching from the doorway as Dean cuddled Sam close and began to stroke his tufts of hair. Sam wrapped a tiny fist around Dean's finger and began to chew it gingerly, causing Dean to smile lovingly down at his kid brother.

There was so much love in Dean's expression and Bobby was sure that these kids would grow up really close. He could tell that Dean would protect Sam from anything. His green eyes were so caring that it was obvious; no harm would ever befall Sam when Dean was around.

Dean eventually fell asleep with Sam still in his arms, so Bobby took the youngest Winchester and carried him downstairs, feeding him a bottle and ensuring that if he started crying, Dean wouldn't be woken up. The poor boy really needed some sleep.

**Part two will be uploaded in a couple of days, depending on feedback, so please review. It really means a lot!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is part 2 as promised. Thanks for the reviews! They really mean a lot :)**

**A Better Father Part 2**

At lunchtime the next day, Bobby decided that he should wake Dean up, smiling down at the drowsy boy before helping him downstairs for breakfast.

"What do you want to eat?"

"I'm not hungry." Bobby knew that loss of appetite was a symptom of morphine, but Dean was already too skinny and hadn't kept any food down for a couple of days. This couldn't go on any longer.

"You need to eat Dean, how about some toast?"

"No."

"Yes."

"Ok." After half an hour of Bobby coaxing dry toast into Dean's mouth he decided that this wasn't going to work, so he allowed Dean to curl up on the sofa under a blanket and watch some movies. Dean seemed to be content for a while, but after the third film Bobby saw a single tear trickle down Dean's cheek.

"Dean, what's wrong? Talk to me buddy."

"Don't call me that!" Dean shouted, anger blazing in his eyes glared at Bobby with a look suddenly full of venom. Nobody called him that apart from his Dad.

"Don't take that tone with me son, or I'll give you a hiding." Bobby realised that he had made a mistake when he saw the boy withdraw into himself, burying his head under the blanket and curling up in a tight ball, pulling his ankle off of the pillows that had been supporting the cast. It had been an empty threat, Bobby would never lay his hand on a child but Dean didn't seem to realise this.

"Dean, I didn't mean it, sorry. I'd never hurt you, ever. I'm sorry for scaring you." He could see the blanket shaking as Dean sobbed beneath it and sighed, _damn I've lost my touch._

"Please Dean…"

"G'way." Dean sounded broken, his voice cracked as he sobbed harder. _I want my Daddy._

Bobby and Dean spent the rest of the day in silence, a silence which was only interrupted by Sam screaming and crying out for attention. Dean was the only one who could calm his brother down, it seemed as if the younger Winchester could sense his older brother's distress.

Bobby finally made peace when he ordered takeaway burgers, hoping that Dean's appetite had returned. It had, with full force.

Maybe the way to a man's heart really is his stomach because Dean's eyes lit up when he took a bite of his Bacon burger turbo and then crammed a few of his large chili-cheese fries into his mouth.

"Mnnn, so good!" Dean grinned at Bobby despite himself, how could he be angry with someone who gave him a burger? Dean had been living off spaghetti-ohs for weeks with his Dad being unwilling to cook for him so this was a real treat.

"You forgive me now?"

"Yeah. Do you have any pie?"

"Depends whose asking." Bobby winked as he left the room, returning with a huge slice of apple pie on a plate for Dean. He knew the boy wouldn't be able to eat the whole piece but it was the gesture that counted. How very wrong he was, within minutes Dean had eaten the pie and there was not a crumb left, he had even licked the apple filling off the plate when he thought Bobby wasn't looking.

"You really were hungry!"

"Yeah." Dean looked slightly sheepish but was grinning nonetheless, he was so irrationally happy at that moment that he had even managed to forget the pain he was in.

The next morning Dean had some leftover burger, nodding in acknowledgement when Bobby asked; "you eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast now?"

"Sorry."

"S'alright. You can eat whatever you want, just try not to make yourself sick again."

"Ok Bobby, thanks. What are we doing after breakfast?"

"What do you want to do?"

"Can we go to the park and feed the ducks?" Dean realised how babyish his request had sounded and quickly tried to cover up for himself, his Dad kept telling him to man up.

"Um, it's just that Sammy loves the park!" _Sure he does Dean, you're a kid, and you can act like one y'know._

"Ok, the park it is."

Progress was slow with Dean having to stop at least once every half hour when his ankle became too painful, but he was grinning from ear to ear by the time they reached the pond. Bobby perched on the edge of the embankment with Sammy in his arms and watched as Dean began throwing chunks of bread to the ducks, his favourite seeming to be an American black duck. Its feathers were slightly rumpled and it was smaller than all of the other birds, but Dean didn't seem to mind. In his mind that duck was the cutest and needed him to look after it, like Sammy did.

Half a loaf of bread later, Dean was ready to go, hobbling onto his good foot and making his way to the café with Bobby where they both had an ice-cream. Even Sam had a small spoonful of Dean's vanilla ice cream, which he swallowed down gleefully, giggling. _Damn why do they make me so warm and fuzzy, if Ellen or one of the others saw me right now…_

It was only when it started to pour with rain that Bobby managed to persuade Dean to leave, but Dean was struggling to walk over the slippery mud and fell face first onto the gravel path, tears springing to his eyes when pieces of stone dug into his palms, but thankfully he had not landed on his bad ankle.

A young woman who had been hurrying by under an umbrella in an attempt to keep dry hurried over.

"Do you three need any help? I have some plasters in my handbag."

"Yeah, thanks." Bobby acknowledged her gruffly, too preoccupied with checking Dean's ankle to be polite. He had a reputation of being a grumpy old man, why not live up to it.

"Do you want me to take the littleun back to your car while you carry this young man." Bobby looked uncomfortable but Dean wasn't in any fit state to walk back to the car, the cuts in his hand would hurt if pressed against the crutches and he could hardly support a baby's neck and back properly if he hand a four year old in one arm.

"Thanks, that'd be great."

"C'mon you little idjit, fancy getting yourself hurt again. What am I going to do with you, hey?" Dean sniffled a little but refused to cry, chewing his lower lip and clinging tightly to Bobby's jacket.

Bobby settled Dean into the passenger seat of his 1971 Chevelle and took Sammy off of the woman who had followed them with Sammy in her arms.

"Uh thanks." Bobby took Sam and placed him in a makeshift baby basket before accepting some plasters.

"I'll be off then, I hope you feel better soon little man." The woman smiled at Dean and ruffled his short hair before returning to her journey, leaving a slightly bemused Bobby behind. Maybe there were some decent people left on the planet who were not completely egocentric and selfish.

"I'm just gonna patch you up kiddo, then we can go home and watch something, any movie of your choice."

"Doesn't hurt." It did hurt, but Dean didn't want Bobby to prod the cuts in his hands, knowing that would make them hurt even more.

"Sure it doesn't. The sooner I clean you up the sooner we can go home." Dean pouted and glared at Bobby before sticking his hands out. They were shaking violently but Bobby didn't ask any questions or comment, he knew that this would embarrass Dean and that the boy would stubbornly say that he was shaking because of the cold, not because he was in pain. Stubbornness ran through the Winchester bloodline.

Dean refused to cry when Bobby carefully wiped his hands clean and removed the bits of dirt and gravel, but let out a tiny yelp when Bobby pressed on a plaster

"All done now."

"Good." Bobby turned the radio on for the journey back, singing along with Dean who was finger tapping to Aerosmith and gently singing the lyrics under his breath. Although Dean would never admit it, he had a lovely singing voice, but singing was for girls. He wanted to be big, strong and macho like Daddy.

It was late that night when Bobby heard the unmistakable rumble of the Impala's engine and he was immediately grateful that Dean and Sam were asleep. He had a few choice words lined up for John Winchester.

Bobby flung the door open with more force than was necessary before John had the chance to knock and a sheepish looking John was revealed.

"Where have you been you dick? Have you got any idea!"

"Hi Bobby."

"That's it, you just up and leave like that and come back with nothing more than _hi Bobby._"

"What else do you want me to say?" _God he is a conceited ass!_

"SORRY! I want you to say sorry for leaving your kid behind in such a state. I want you to apologise for not caring for your boy properly and leaving me to take him to the damn hospital!"

"Hospital?" John's eyes widened momentarily but the flicker of emotion was so brief that Bobby wondered if it had ever been there.

"YEAH YOU SON OF A BITCH, **HOSPITAL**. DID YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HURT DEAN'S ANKLE WAS. HANG ON, DON'T ANSWER THAT. YOU DIDN'T KNOW BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO BUSY WALLOWING IN SELF PITY TO NOTICE THAT YOUR SON HAD A **BROKEN** FUCKING ANKLE. THE POOR KID MUST HAVE BEEN IN AGONY FOR HOURS AND YOU DID NOTHING. NADA. THAT'S LOW, JOHN, EVEN FOR YOU!"

"Bobby..." John was lost for words, he loved his boys. He really did. _What have I done?_

"C'mon in then. Prick." Bobby could see the hurt in John's eyes and felt slightly bad for shouting at him. But only slightly.

"Where is he?"

"In bed, leave him be, it took me ages to make him settle down. You can see him in the morning."

"I want to see my son."

"Well I want your son to get a rest, and I want you to sober up a bit before you talk to him. You stink of booze, how much did you drink?" John didn't answer, ashamed at his actions.

"I'm…I'm sorry." Bobby did a double take. John Winchester never apologises.

"Get some rest ya idjit. There is a blanket on the couch."

"Thanks Bobby."

"Any time."

When Dean woke up the next morning he let out a small moan, sitting himself up and picking up his crutches, groaning when he knocked his sore hands when propping himself up on them.

All in all he was thoroughly miserable.

He really didn't feel well at all, Bobby had given him a dose of morphine in the night when he woke up in pain for the fourth time, and it didn't seem to agree with him.

"Bobby!" Dean barely gasped out the eldest hunter's name before he threw up all over himself and his bed, not being able to roll over in time. By the time Bobby threw open the bedroom door Dean was crying harder than ever, tears streaming down his face.

"Hey Champ." Dean gave a little sniff and looked up; standing just behind Bobby was his father.

"Daddy!" Dean struggled to prop himself back up but John strode over to his son and gently pushed him back against the pillows.

"Hi Dean, sorry I wasn't here earlier, I hear you were a very brave and well behaved boy for Bobby." Dean gave a small nod but paled and moved a hand to his mouth. Luckily hunter's reactions meant that John was able to push a bucket under his son's head just in time.

"S'alright Dean, let it out, you're doing good son." John began to rub circles on Dean's back and supported his forehead, helping his son to sit up and propping the boy against his own chest.

"My tummy hurts Daddy!"

"I know, I'll get you some pills in a minute." John carefully moved his hand from Dean's forehead to his stomach and began to rub Dean's abdomen gently, making Dean relax a little.

"Better?"

"Y-yes." When Dean was sure he wasn't going to be sick again he snuggled down into John's lap and closed his eyes, mumbling something about Sammy.

"Sammy's fine, he's sleeping for now. Do you want something to drink…" John was about to stand when Bobby came in with a plastic cup of water.

"One step ahead of ya."

"Thanks Bobby." John took the cup and placed it to Dean's lips, instructing his son to take small sips. When Dean was done Bobby tucked him in under the blankets, picked Sam up out of his cot and sat with both of his sons in Dean's single bed. It was a tight fit but he didn't want to leave Dean's side again. He felt terrible and knew he would have to make things up to Dean, one step at a time.

Early the next day John was packing his things in the back of the Impala, much to Bobby's despair. Despite everything he had truly enjoyed caring for the Winchester boys, there were like family to him and he wanted nothing more than to spend some more time with them.

"You can stay longer you know, I don't mind."

"I do know, but there is a case down in Oregon, a suspicious fire and I just have to check it out."

"Are you sure you are doing the right thing, dragging Sam and Dean into this lifestyle. They're not soldiers; you still have the opportunity to live a normal life. If I were you I'd grab it with both hands."

"I need to kill the son of a bitch who hurt my Mary, I have to know who or what it was. I can't bear not knowing."

"Think of your kids, John. Please."

"I'm sorry Bobby…Come on Dean!" John called over to his son, who was hovering in the doorway of Bobby's house. The small boy made his way slowly over to the Impala, eyes trained on the floor.

"Do we have to go Daddy? I like it here."

"It will be fun Dean, I booked a nice hotel for us to stay in."

"I don't want to live in a hotel, wanna stay with Bobby." Dean stuck out his lower lip and hovered by Bobby's side.

"Dean." As soon as John used his warning tone Dean nodded sadly, resting his head against Bobby's stomach for a moment as he was pulled into a tight embrace.

"Seya soon Dean, you're welcome home any time."

"Thank you Bobby." Dean pulled away sadly and settled in the passenger seat of the Impala, looking back at Sam who was in a baby-seat staring transfixed out of the window. Sam had no idea what was going on and Dean was jealous. He wished he was oblivious to the hurt around him.

"Take care of those boys John, they are great kids. Don't change that." Bobby pulled John into a one handed hug before pulling away and giving a gruff cough.

"Thanks for everything Bobby."

"Yeah…get outta here before you go all chick-flick on me!"

"Bye."

"Bye."

Bobby turned and walked back to his house with slumped shoulders, the familiar sound of the Impala pulling away ringing in his ears.

The creaks in the floorboards seemed louder than before, probably because he could no longer hear the bangs of Dean's crutches or Sammy crying in the background. All that was left were his own footsteps.

With a dejected sigh Bobby slumped down at the kitchen table and poured himself a large whiskey, staring up at the clock that was ticking loudly, mocking him. Each tick marked another wasted moment of his life, a moment when he was alone with no-one around to love, or to love him back.

Bobby knocked back another drink and pondered his life, what a waste! All this time on the planet and what did he have to show for it? A collection of whiskey and some old books. All the people he had saved and this was his payment.

Some life!

Bobby couldn't help but think that he would have made a better father than John Winchester. Yes, the man clearly loved his sons, but not enough to shelter them from the dangers of the world. He was willing to drag his sons into dangerous situations, train them for a life of hunting monsters, what kind of parent puts their child's life at risk like that?

Bobby made his way through the rest of his whiskey, giving up with pouring it into glasses and instead sipping straight from the bottle. What was the point?

He then hauled himself up, slumped in front of the television and began to flick through the channels, all the while thinking of the green eyed boy whom he had learnt to love as a son and the little baby who would grow up to be a hunter.

He would have been a better father than John, definitely.

**Yeah, that turned out a tad more depressing than planned but I was in a bad mood!**

**Please review and let me know what you think, it really makes my day! Also, I have another idea for a new chapter with lots of angsty-slightly older Dean, but I might just leave it here. **

**If you guys want more then leave a review to let me know, I might say I will wait until I have at least 15 reviews, I know that is mean but I have a lot of work on and don't want to spend hours writing things if no-one is reading them haha. Also, it would be nice to know that I am not alone in my bubble of Supernaturalness! So yeah…let me know and I love you all :)x**


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